


If the Night Comes, And the Night Will Come (Well, At Least the War is Over)

by Meatball42



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alliances, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes' Family, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, No Spoilers, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Politics, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Secrets, Steve Rogers Feels, Surveillance, Tony Feels, Unreliable Narrator, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6704761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today is Bucky’s wedding day. It is a day for celebration, and a day for unexpected guests, secret romance, and mysterious plots. It’s the first time the Avengers will be together since the Sokovia Accords went through.<br/>There are a few ways this could go...</p><p>Choose Your Ending story<br/>*Not CA:CW Compliant*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gather

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/549-Bay-Rd_Duxbury_MA_02332_M38525-33920#photo0) is Tony’s house in Duxbury, MA, for those who would appreciate a visual.
> 
> The title is from ‘In Our Bedroom After the War’ by Stars, just cause I liked it, though in retrospect the song is kind of morbidly fitting. Thanks to my wonderful friend defenestratingreason for looking over this despite not knowing half the characters.
> 
> This story is set after an idealized version of the MCU Civil War which has been inspired in part by trailers, but beyond that has no intentional overlap with the movie itself. As such, loyalties and bitterness amongst the Avengers and their associates are not where we left them after Ultron, and can be unexpectedly thorny; and unexpectedly firm. In this headcanon, Spiderman started on Team Iron Man before defecting to Team Cap (sort of like the comics). There are also mild references both to Agents of SHIELD and comics canon.

Bucky wakes up slowly, to a firm, thick mattress, soft blankets warmed by the sun. He wakes to the sound of seagulls, and waves gently hitting the beach, and the coastal wind. He wakes to the scent of salt in the air, jasmine on the bedding, and lovemaking on his own body. He wakes to the sight of his best friend in the world, his lover, the man he’s going to marry, beside him in their bed.

It should be the best day of his life.

Bucky closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep a few more minutes.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The last of the decorators leave at ten, which is when the caterers arrive with their vans. After going through security screening, they begin to unload and prepare multiple pallets of food, both in the extensive kitchen and pantry and in the tents set up in the courtyard. The DJ shows up soon after to set up his gear in the great room at the center of the house, then leaves.

Steve watches them from the second bedroom, which overlooks the huge front lawn and twisting driveway. Bucky finds him there and opens the window in front of him, letting the cool sea breeze inside.

Steve doesn’t move. He watches the people they’ve paid to craft a wedding for them, and his face is blank, and his fists are clenched in his lap. Bucky follows his gaze more carefully, and sees that Steve is inspecting the guardhouse at the edge of their property, where the long entryway meets the main road.

It’s where the DJ’s equipment, and the caterers’ food, and the decorator’s accessories were searched for anything that could contain explosives, weapons of any sort, or unauthorized communications devices. It’s where all of their guests, today, their friends and family and former teammates, will be searched for the same. It’s where the two of them have been assigned an agent every time they leave the property for the last eight months, and where they are searched upon returning.

Bucky has mixed feelings about this kind of prison. These feelings fall into two very distinct categories. On one hand, he has been kept in mouldy, rodent-infested cells, has been trapped in cryogenic tanks, has been assigned to Siberian compounds and beaten every day in a Mediterranean palace. He has been swarmed by ants waiting to take a killshot, has lain back without complaint for medical procedures that he knows nothing about to this day.

A colonial mansion in Massachusetts, where he is allowed to go fishing, is accompanied to the grocery store by a Homeland Security agent, and can choose the cake he wants to shove in Steve’s face on their wedding night, is no Eden, but it isn’t Hell.

On the other hand, Bucky is watching Steve die slowly.

He kneels beside the windowsill and rests his head against Steve’s thigh. Eventually, a hand slides into his hair and does not move, anchoring him as firmly as a butterfly.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The first guests arrive at eleven. Sam and his cousin, a pretty woman named Bre, make it through security before Clint and his family. Clint’s kids immediately rip off their clothes and hop into the pool in swim trunks, screaming and splashing. Laura, who Bucky briefly met at the rehearsal last week, raises lines in her face laughing at them. Bucky decides he likes her.

Bucky and Laura and Bre make brunch in one corner of the huge kitchen, trying to stay out of the caterers’ way, then quickly move to the smaller dining room to eat. With the windows open to the picturesque bay view, they chat, like normal people. They don’t talk about politics, or about ‘old friends,’ or ‘hobbies.’ Instead, Laura talks about family recipes handed down through generations. Bre talks about cookouts down South, where her whole huge family gets together to annoy each other and eat incredible food. Bucky talks about trying to teach himself to cook out of books and off the internet and television, while marvelling at having enough money to be picky. It’s one of the nicest conversations he can remember having in the last few decades.

Steve and Sam and Clint have been in the billiards room, probably talking about politics, or about ‘old friends,’ or ‘hobbies.’ Steve has that deadness in his eyes when the trio emerges, resignation cooling his eyes to a stormy gray where righteousness once had them blazing the color of the summer sky outside. Clint is frowning and Sam has the calm expression he gets when things are piling up against them.

Bucky takes Steve’s hand and waits until he feels a squeeze in response. Steve’s eyes focus on him again, slowly, and something reignites. It’s not the passion that used to light his spirit, but it’s something.

He pulls Steve along outside to where Phee, the housekeeper, is feeding Lila and Cooper Barton lemonade and fruit at a patio table under an umbrella. Steve settles in a sunning chair with Bre and Sam, the talk clearly lighter than before, while Laura goes to slather sunblock on her children.

Clint leans against the cast iron gate with Bucky, their backs to the beach. “How’s he been?” Clint inquires.

“Not happy.”

Clint snorts. “That’s like saying the Grinch is just a little mean. Last time I saw somebody this pissed, half of SHIELD nearly got fired. But I’m not asking about that.”

Bucky thinks. “Not good.”

“You okay?” Clint looks away from his family to squint at Bucky. “You’re back to monotone.”

“I just… don’t know what to say.”

Clint sighs. “Yeah.”

Bucky doesn’t ask what Clint’s up to lately, or how he’s been. Clint doesn’t ask, either.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Scott and his friend (girlfriend? partner?) Hope arrive, along with Sharon and her date, a former SHIELD agent who moved to the CIA after the fall. He and Clint apparently know each other, and Hope hits it off with Sharon instantly, and Scott ends up at alone, eventually tagging along with Laura to put Cooper and Lila to siesta. Steve joins Hope and Sharon, and they have the most private conversation possible on the property beside the speaker pumping out mid-volume pop music, a playlist Bucky made of non- annoying or stupid songs.

Bucky and Sam stay up front to greet the other guests as they arrive and direct them outside, or to the spare bedrooms. Wanda is staying overnight above the carriage house, along with Peter and his girlfriend. Bucky shows them the rooms so they can settle in, and allows Peter’s gorgeous companion to break the ice between the former teammates-of-a-sort.

Natasha arrives while he’s gone, which Bucky doesn’t learn for an hour or so. When Sam and Natasha finally emerge from the furnished basement, he has to fight down a compulsion to remove her from the property, from this house that was a prison but has become a home. Then he sees her fingers twisted with Sam’s for just a moment before the pair heads in opposite directions, and experiences the latest in a long series of paradigm shifts.

Bucky’s former therapist Leo arrives from D.C. with his wife, and then Brandon, who Bucky met at a local fishing hole, and his wife and daughter, and then a few kids Steve met at a local art gallery, and their dates. It’s nearly three when the real guests of honor arrive.

Bucky’s youngest sister Lucy enters the house supported by her youngest son Weston, and trailing a tide of variously-sized Robinsons. Mindful of her fragile bones, Bucky hugs her carefully for a long time before showing her to her room on the second floor. She shoos him away so Weston can help her get ready for a nap, saying she wants to be fresh so she can embarrass him at the ceremony.

He plays pool with some of his nephews and tries to ignore his great-niece Lisa flirting with Bre, because that sort of thing he just can’t think about. Clint hits the game room dart boards for a while to demolish the self-esteem of a few of Bucky’s relatives who don’t recognize him.

Bucky goes looking for a drink, and finds Sam keeping an eye on Wanda and Vision while the pair chats in a corner of the patio. “We didn’t invite him,” Bucky growls. His left arm clenches tight for the first time all week.

“Nat brought him as her plus-one,” Sam says absently. He sips from a beer, and Bucky notices that he’s only nominally supervising; his gaze is far away.

“Speaking of…”

“She went that way.” Sam gestures past the patio to the pavilion ringing the courtyard. Bucky heads in that direction, keeping his senses open. He slows when he hears Steve’s voice, and silently approaches when he hears Natasha’s, hiding behind a pillar.

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t judge you.”

“I’m not marrying Bucky so that I won’t have to testify against him. I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”

“Okay,” Natasha says, placating. “It’s just, the way he talked, I thought-”

“This- my marriage has nothing to do with Tony or his games.”

“Okay then.” She remains silent for less than ten seconds. “He says you didn’t invite him.”

“No. I didn’t.”

Bucky hears the same resolution as when Sam had first suggested extending invitations to Steve’s former teammates, regardless of their division during the Accords. Steve had been adamant then that no one who’d championed the provisions be invited. Eventually, Sam had gotten him to unbend enough to invite Natasha, but it sounds like Steve is regretting his change of heart.

“He’s trying to be a friend.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” Steve replies. His tone is as dark as midnight on the sunny afternoon.

“You don’t know-”

“You know, I think you were right,” Steve cuts Natasha off. “This is the wrong business for friends.”

Recognizing the move, Bucky twists away as Steve heads back to the house. He allows Natasha a moment to compose herself before sliding onto the marble bench, his thighs and butt absorbing the warmth Steve left behind.

“What’s your angle?” he asks amiably, watching the sunlight sparkle off the water.

“Why would I have an angle?” Natasha replies. She sounds tired.

“You’re Stark’s friend. He stuck his neck out for us, about Wakanda and the Accords. If he hadn’t, Steve would be in prison, and I’d be… somewhere else, not living in a mansion in Massachusetts, getting a tan and getting married.” Bucky chews over his words for a minute or two; he’s not used to speaking so much, even now. Natasha has turned to him on the bench, surprised, but patient.

“Steve can be a bit slow, sometimes,” Bucky says. “He hasn’t even noticed yet, the- you know. So I’m willing to hear you out, as long as you speak straight.”

A crinkle has appeared between Natasha’s brows, intrigue to match the amusement in her half-smile. “You’ve got a good eye.”

Bucky shrugs. “I’m paying attention.”

“Wilson said you don’t talk much.”

Wilson. Huh. “He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah.” She blinks, looks away. “I don’t have anything important to say. A lot’s happening right now, and- It was a lot easier when we could call on each other. That’s not on the table, now, but... “

“But you want to be friendly.” Bucky wished they could speak in Russian. This sort of thing always made more sense to him in Russian.

“Rhodes and I are heading the Commission on Enhanced Regulation, and Tony’s got three full-time jobs. There’s a lot going on. Eventually, it’ll settle down, but for now we’re all trying to stay on top of things. I want…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky watches Natasha sigh and purse her lips. “I don’t have a lot of friends. I want you guys to stay safe.”

“We’re keeping our heads down,” Bucky murmurs. It echoes strangely in his head, raising too many memories and personalities with conflicting feelings on the matter.

“Good. Keep doing that.” Natasha stands, quickly, hands smoothing down her pale sundress. Bucky sort of wants to wash his hands of this conversation, too. “Watch out for Steve. He doesn’t always know what’s good for him.”

“You’re telling me,” Bucky jokes, grinning up at her.

She smiles back before leaving, her heels clicking on the marble as she goes.

Bucky closes his eyes, letting the sun turn his field of vision a deep, fiery red. He breathes deep in the summer air and lets his mental map of the world change against the sound of the rolling tides.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Bucky is shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth with Peter and a few of the younger Robinsons when the sky changes color. It’s hard to describe exactly what happens, but at the end of it, a strange pattern is burnt into the grass midway between the house and the ocean, and a figure wearing a long red cape stands at the center of it.

None of the guests panic, but the Homeland Security agents guarding the property swarm the Bifrost site, talking into their radios and brandishing weapons that have no hope of taking down a Prince of Asgard, and, who knows, maybe one or two that do. Steve, ignoring any common sense, strides down the slope toward them. After some quick ASL coordination, Sam and Natasha head down to back him up while Bucky goes inside and Clint stays by the pool, reassuring those guests who have tired of the sun, and those with kids, which is a pretty even split.

Bucky doesn’t watch, but Peter is a pretty good helper, updating him every few minutes with whispers low enough that the house’s various bugs can’t pick it up, but close enough for Bucky to hear. Third-hand, he feels Steve’s indignation and rage at being denied access to his teammate, Sam’s quiet panic, and Natasha’s hidden despair (Peter knows her better than Bucky; Steve has been particularly tight-lipped about his first friend in the 21st century). He’s never met Thor, but thunder rumbles across the clear blue sky, and it’s not hard to imagine what one of the missing Avengers is feeling upon his return.

After the head agent on site makes a few phone calls, Peter relays, Thor is allowed to come up to the house. Sam and Natasha take him upstairs, while Clint, Laura and Sharon team up to get the party going again. Bucky takes Steve to their room and holds him close for a few minutes, Steve’s rib-crushing grip slowly loosening, until a phalanx of agents pass their door on the way to confront their teammates again. Through the walls, they can hear allegations of illegal tampering with federally-placed listening devices, which Thor claims to have shorted out accidentally, in his anger.

Bucky has to soothe Steve all over again after the agents leave.

And, they woke up Lucy.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Also attending the wedding are a pair of agents Steve knew at SHIELD before it fell. Back in February, the windows sealed tight against a Nor’Easter, Steve laughed without humor and recalled his confusion that two such gifted agents as Betancourt and Meyers had been passed over for positions on the STRIKE team.

Betancourt has a heavy limp, now, from a Hydra slug to the upper thigh. She doesn’t let it stop her from being a social butterfly, though, and various people join the circle around her bar stool in the game room. Meyers is quiet, an early retiree, and only spends any significant amount of time talking to Clint, Sharon and her date, and Laura.

Phee is a bit anxious about having so many people in the house and tells anyone who’s interested about its colonial history. Her husband tries to loosen her up via champagne, with some success. Bucky keeps an eye on them, never sure what to make of her. Phee is the daughter of one of Tony Stark’s former business partners. She called Stark an old friend, like a brother, and she and her husband are paid to take care of the mansion, one of many in Stark’s real estate portfolio. Part of Stark’s agreement with the government, endless and tedious and full of caveats as it was, insisted that she remain on staff despite the dozen or so federal agents guarding the property from without and within. Steve hadn’t argued, and Sam hadn’t argued, and back when they’d moved in, that was all Bucky had cared about. Now… he cares about a lot more, but he still doesn’t know what to think about Phee, or her presence in their home.

Late in the afternoon, when Bucky is changing into his suit in the master bedroom and their guests are slowly migrating to the courtyard, Cooper Barton bursts into the room, eyes wide with excitement and attempted solemnity. “Dad says you should come downstairs,” he says in a rush.

There are no sounds of fighting, or Homeland agents shouting commands below, and Cooper is not accompanied by a rush of Robinsons and his sister. Bucky finishes buttoning his cuffs before descending, with Cooper a half-step behind his hip.

A pair of truly gorgeous women stand motionless in the wide entryway. When Bucky reaches Steve and Sam, they bow shallowly, and one of them steps forward. “I am Shuri, Princess of Wakanda and trusted Emissary of T’Challa, chief Black Panther and King of Wakanda. I come bearing a gift for the honored friends who are to be wed on this day, and a royal blessing upon this match.”

Bucky shivers. Steve tries to subdue a grimace. Sam pokes Steve in the ribs, hard enough that Steve steps away from it, toward the princess.

“This is… an unexpected privilege. Please convey our gratitude to His Highness.”

The woman behind the princess approaches, drawing a package from the folds of her flowing robe. Bucky takes it with his metal arm before Steve can reach for it.

“And, thank you for making the trip,” Steve continues with a polite smile for the women.

The pair dip their heads a few inches, in impressive unison, and retreat.

Natasha darts forward to take careful possession of the gift from Bucky, and is quickly joined by a small contingent of Homeland agents armed with scanners. He catches Clint approaching Sam to mutter something in his ear, while Steve glares at the front door.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he goes back upstairs. Steve is still holding a grudge against T’Challa for promoting the Accords in the UN, and for coming after Bucky in particular. Bucky feels differently. At some level, he thinks he deserves to have some of his victims trying to get revenge for the things he’s done over the last several decades; even though he wasn’t the one who blew up the embassy in Wakanda, he doesn’t hold any grievance against the T’Challa for coming after him. And by the end of the preliminary hearings in D.C., Bucky had liked the king’s dedication to his country and his unwaveringly even-handed approach to politics.

Steve had come out of the Accords with an essential enmity for anyone who’d supported them, which is both typical of Steve and pretty annoying.

Bucky returns to his preparations for the ceremony. The hardest part, if he’s completely honest, is getting his hair to look nice. It’s not something he’s got a lot of practice with. One of his great-nieces, Felicia, who seems very fashionable, sneaks upstairs to help him out.

And then it’s time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ENDING STORY! The three endings are all compatible with this first chapter, but contradict each other. Each has its own shippy hints and its own references to different canons. 
> 
> Ending one: Refraction, is what I have decided to call the ‘ambiguously sad ending’.  
> Ending two: Faustus, is the ‘ambiguously more sad ending’.  
> Ending three: Assemble, is the ‘more violent but relatively happy ending’. It has two missing scenes, which are appended in Chapter 5: Missing scenes from Assemble.
> 
> The choice is yours.


	2. Ending one: Refraction

It’s time.

Sam is their Best Man and Lucy is the Maid of Honor. Sharon and Laura match her in conservative but gorgeous sky-blue gowns. Opposite them, Thor’s cape at least matches Sam and Clint’s ties. Clint is having a grand old time confusing Thor under the guise of instructing him on Midgardian wedding protocol.

Bucky scans the perimeter by force of habit and his gaze catches on a spot just beyond the rows of seat, where a patch of air shimmers. He checks with Natasha, who shrugs gently; no, no one else has noticed yet.

Except for Clint, whose shit-eating grin has dimmed as he looks between Bucky and the human-shaped blur. Bucky shakes his head. Clint raises his eyebrows in surprise. Bucky nods.

He and Steve have a lot of friends who have passed over the decades since they’ve been together. There are more who can’t be here today. If someone cares enough about the occasion to be here when they’re not invited, it’s fine with Bucky.

Clint looks conflicted, but it’s not his party. He settles his shoulders and goes back to listening to the priest.

Besides, Bucky knows that one day, Steve will regret not issuing that invitation.

When the moment comes, Bucky kisses Steve under a sky that bleeds with the crimson of sunset and the indigo of oncoming darkness. Everyone they love is there to see it.


	3. Ending 2: Faustus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this ending starts around the time the other one ends, they are not compatible.

On Clint’s advice, they go straight from the wedding ceremony to the first dance (“Get it out of the way, then you can go eat and get drunk.  _ Do not _ get drunk first.”). It’s good because everyone’s just starting to tuck into their food and is only half paying attention. Maybe not the most traditional, but Bucky would be okay with skipping it entirely, so he doesn’t mind.

The musicians strike up a song, something classic and lovely, and Bucky focuses on not tripping over his own feet, or Steve’s, and not making Steve trip over his feet. It’s funny exactly how little combat skills have to do with dancing. He’s one thousand percent sure that Sam, the graceful asshole, is laughing at them from the edge of the dance floor.

It’s a really nice dance, all things considered. Steve leads to start, and then they switch. Steve has that look, that happy-but-not look, that grew on his face in the months after his mother passed. Bucky knows he’s thinking about the people who couldn’t be here tonight, about the places where  _ they _ couldn’t be tonight. He pulls Steve in for a kiss, which is good, and there are some happy sounds from their guests, which is nice, and then there’s a gasp and a skitter and a bang, and then surprised cries.

Bucky and Steve react  _ into _ each other, banging foreheads. They recover quickly, but Sam and Hope are already wrestling someone down at one side of the dance floor, and on the other, Peter has someone pinned to the hardwood. And anyway, it’s not like they could do anything themselves.

Surrounding Steve and Bucky is a glowing blue bubble that stretches a few yards across. Close inspection reveals the bubble emanating from what looks like a make-up compact, and four crumpled bullets on the ground just outside of it.

Homeland Security agents scramble from the edges of the hall, and more swarm in from outside. Most of the guests are instructed to stay in their seats- at full bellow, which does nothing to calm anyone’s shaky nerves- and agents tell Peter and Sam and Hope to stand back.

The shooter- and it is the shooter, because Hope carefully passes a confiscated handgun to an agent- is Sharon. Steve gasps quietly. Bucky likes Sharon, but he’s been inside Hydra for decades and would be only nominally surprised if Sam turned out to be a double agent. He takes Steve’s hand and senses that Steve is squeezing tightly, though he can’t feel it.

Peter’s target is the plant that Bucky had noticed when she first arrived. She came with Steve’s friend Joshua, who he met in town. She’s Japanese, not very common locally, and even Bucky’s unfashionable eye could see that her shimmery, turquoise dress was too quality for the occasion.

“I didn’t do it,” Sharon shouts, and they turn back to her. Her hair is astrew from being taken down, and her expression is a mix of shock and dawning anger. “Steve,” she says, her voice ringing out over the silence of the hall, “you know I-”

“We  _ all  _ saw you,” one of Bucky’s great-nieces cuts her off, her arms crossed tight over her chest. “Who are you even trying to fool?”

“I- I didn’t,” Sharon insists. There’s something in her face when she sees the bullets on the ground, not twenty feet in front of her, that make Bucky’s brain turn cold.

The agents take Sharon and Joshua’s date to the southern side of the house, probably the sitting room. Others move quickly, photographing the bullets on the ground, the bubble of light that stopped them, the positions of Sharon and the unknown woman in relation to the dance floor. Someone cues the musicians to start again just as Peter is brought over to turn off the bubble, something he manages to do very quickly.

The agents withdraw, and Clint and Laura step onto the floor and start dancing. Bucky watches with blank-faced, full-blown suspicion, as Wanda and Vision join them, and Scott and Hope follow. Unexpectedly, Thor manages to explode a bottle of champagne when he shakes it too hard, making Bucky’s younger relatives scream in excitement. Felicia is comforting Joshua, who can be overheard saying that he knew Rumi was too hot for him.

“Who’s doing this?” Steve mutters.

Bucky forgives him. He likes Sharon, it’s understandable that he’s being a little slow just now.

They leave the hall and are not stopped by any of the Homeland agents before they reach the sitting room. They find Sharon handcuffed on one of the couches, guarded by three agents. Her make-up is streaming down her face. Across from her, Joshua’s date sits comfortably with only a single guard beside her.

Behind the sitting area, Natasha is talking to the Homeland Security agent in charge of the perimeter and Tony Stark.

Stark, who’s dressed in a very rumpled-looking grey suit, notices them first and waves them over. Bucky feels Steve’s bicep clench against his before they approach. Natasha nods when she sees them.

“Took Parker longer than I thought to figure out the shield. You two okay? Nothing got through, did it?” He looks concerned. Bucky doesn’t count it.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Steve asks, quietly murderous.

“I knew something would happen,” Stark corrects. “That’s why I sent in my agent.” He grins behind them, and Bucky glances at the couch. The Japanese lady gives Stark an unimpressed look.

“Can we move on?” Natasha says firmly. Stark meets her eyes and deflates a little.

“You want the honors?”

“Not really.” Nevertheless, she goes to sit next to Sharon. The Homeland agents move aside for her. Sharon lets Natasha take her hand, and looks around nervously as everyone in the room focuses on them. She meets Steve’s eyes last, and holds them.

“Sharon, I need you to take a deep breath.”

The reaction is immediate. Sharon tries to stand, but one of the agents keeps her in her seat. “No! No-”

“Calm your mind,” Natasha says over Sharon’s protests. One of the Homeland Security agents closes the door. “You know what is best.”

“No, don’t, please,” Sharon moans. She’s still fighting the hands on her shoulders, but it’s as though she can’t tear away from Natasha’s gaze.

“What is best is that you comply,” Natasha continues shaikly. She visibly swallows. “Compliance will be rewarded.”

Sharon stops moving, her eyes wide and glassy and terrified. Steve flinches, and Bucky realizes that he’s been squeezing Steve’s arm with his metal hand.

“Are you ready to comply?”

Another pair of tears slides down Sharon’s face, before her expression settles into nothing. “I’m happy to comply,” she says, without inflection.

There’s a long silence before Stark clears his throat. “Hydra brainwashing. We’ve seen it before.”

“Will she be alright?” Steve asks, his voice hushed. Sharon hasn’t reacted, simply watching Natasha like a dog at a show. Bucky feels sick.

“No idea,” Stark answers. “But I hear we’ve got a world-renowned psychiatrist in the house. You-” he points to the Homeland Security agent near the door. “Head over to the party and politely ask Doctor Samson if he wants to take on another patient?”

The agent flees. Natasha stands up, rubbing her arms for just a second before she catches herself. Bucky can see goosebumps raised on all the skin her dress leaves exposed. “I should let central know about this,” she says.

“Say goodnight to the birdbrains first,” Stark jokes quietly, although the Homeland Security has starts talking amongst themselves again.

Natasha nods to him and then to Steve and Bucky before she leaves.

“Tony,” Steve says abruptly. Stark jumps a bit, like he wasn’t expecting it. “We need to talk.”

Stark’s ‘agent’ stands, immediately attracting the attention of most of the men in the room. She says something in Japanese to Stark, raising one shaped eyebrow.

“I know,” Stark replies. “I’ve gotta fly, actually,” he says flippantly to Steve. “But we’ll try and set something up, huh?”

“Tony.” Steve steps into Stark’s path. Bucky squeezes Steve’s hand as the Homeland agents’ attention upgrades from ‘ogle’ to ‘potential enhanced fight’.

Steve and Stark don’t seem to notice the agents’ tension. They’ve got their own. Bucky expected it, but it does hurt just a little that Stark is the one to bring fire back into Steve’s eyes after so many months of tired embers.

“Steve,” Stark says, his voice still faux-upbeat, but his eyes dark. “It’s your wedding night. Let’s table the business talk until another time.”

Bucky is prepared to drag Steve away from this one, super soldier serum or no, but for once Steve actually sees reason. He steps back, letting Stark reach the door. “Ru?”

Stark’s friend glares at him just a little, then speaks to Steve and Bucky. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your wedding,” she says, accented but perfectly understandable. “It was very beautiful. I wish the two of you a long and happy life together.”

She sounds sincere, and Steve thanks her quietly. She goes to Stark and slips her hand gracefully into the curve of his elbow as they walk out the door. 

Steve sits next to Sharon and holds her hand until Leo arrives. Bucky’s former therapist asks that the room be cleared and listening devices turned off. When Bucky and Steve return to the hall, the party is going again, and they’re swarmed by friends and former teammates asking if they’re okay, and a few who ask about Sharon. “She’s getting help,” Steve answers those queries.

People mostly know not to talk to Bucky too much if he doesn’t know them well.

Bre doesn’t seem to care, though, and drags him onto the dance floor. She lets him lead at his own pace, and they don’t talk. They dance through two songs before Lisa asks her to dance, which, while gross, lightens Bucky’s mood a little.

He spots a red flash across the room, and make his way over to find Sam holding Natasha’s coat for her. He gives them another moment, then catches Natasha just before she leaves. She zips up her coat as they stand on the porch.

“Will you watch out for her?” he says awkwardly. They don’t know each other except for fighting, and apparently he shot her at some point in the last decade or two, so he has no grounds to ask this favor. “Don’t let anyone hold it against her. Especially not herself.”

Natasha smiles like she’s got something between her teeth. “Don’t worry Barnes. Sharon’s one of the best agents SHIELD had.”

“That doesn’t mean she’ll bounce back,” he warns.

She shakes her head. “I mean- she’s a good person. I’ll stay close.”

“Spasibo, Natalia,” Bucky says, relieved. He knows Steve’s going to beat himself up for not seeing it, but what’s more important… being made to kill your friends is bad enough even before people start blaming you for it. Sharon doesn’t deserve to go through what Bucky did.

He’s about to head back inside when he realizes that Natasha’s staring at him in horror. “What is it?” he asks, heart pounding.

“You…” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing.” She’s definitely not fooling him with the nonchalance, but at least she knows it. “Dobroy nochi, James.”

Something like electricity flashes through his brain. When his vision clears, Natasha is gone.

Bucky goes back inside, feeling a little dizzy. Clint sees him from a few tables away and laughs. Bucky heads to the dance floor and rescues Steve from Sam, who is handily leading him around and basically making Steve look bad.

Despite the attempted assassination, and the pall that Sharon’s absence casts over the night, he’s with Steve, at their wedding, and their friends are around them, taking pictures and making rude jokes and risking their lives and their own freedom to rescue them. Bucky nods at one of the musicians, who strikes up a slow dance, and a few other couples get up to join them.

Bucky could think of worse places to be.


	4. Ending three: Assemble

Sam is their Best Man and Lucy is the Maid of Honor. She’s tiny but her smile is enormous, and she practically bounces on Weston’s arm for most of the ceremony. Lila is the flower girl and Cooper carries the rings, and then they stand beside their parents in the wedding party. Sharon flashes Bucky a thumbs-up that nearly makes him grin while the priest is speaking. Thor, presumably with years of diplomatic training under his belt, refrains from laughing while Clint whispers what are surely entirely misleading explanations to him.

In the front row, Felicia snaps pictures with her camera phone. Natasha, seated at the far end of the row, may or may not have tears in her eyes. Wanda and Vision are holding hands.

Behind them, the friends and family Bucky has found in the last few years look: radiant, tearful, bored, sweaty, excited, nervous. Mostly, they look happy.

There are faces missing. People who couldn’t make it. People they decided not to invite. And then there are the people they would have invited, if they possibly could have. There’s a row at the back that’s completely empty, and no one said it’s for the Commandos, but it is, for sure.

And then, there’s Steve.

It’s a good thing there’s a professional wedding photographer, because Bucky doesn’t remember looking at much else besides the man he’s about to marry.

The sun is lighting up the sky and the sea with deep orange as the priest begins to speak, and the photograph of Steve and Bucky’s kiss has a backdrop of red and blue fire.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The reception is in the main hall. Tables are set up for dinner, there’s a trio of musicians for music, and seating has been arranged very, very carefully, so that everyone who had avoided each other while mingling earlier can continue to do so. Bucky and Steve are sitting with Sam and Bre, Scott and Hope, and Sharon and her date. Bucky has a clear line of sight to the table where Lucy sits with her clan, and he gets up to visit them halfway through dinner, and also the Bartons, awkwardly seated with Natasha and Vision and Wanda. Bucky’s very sure this was not the original seating arrangement, but when he catches a glimpse of the seating placard in front of Wanda, it has her name in golden embossment.

Sam and Sharon give speeches. Sam’s is sincere and loving; Sharon’s would pass for sincere and loving if you didn’t know her. As it is, Steve’s face is bright red by the time she’s done and Clint has excused himself to the restroom after tears started slipping down his face. Bucky just cackles while the guests politely applaud.

Because Clint had insisted, Bucky throws a bouquet. Wanda catches it. All of Bucky’s suspicions are confirmed, but since one of her training goals was to improve subtle use of her powers, he’s not unhappy.

Seeing some less-than-subtle security around the edges of the party barely dampens his good mood.

Phee and her husband bring in the presents from outside, where presumably the Homeland Security agents have used a repulsor-trolley to transport them from the gatehouse. It’s an eclectic mix of gifts. One of the Robinson kids (and his long-suffering mother) wrapped an actual two-foot-wide red-white-and-blue frisbee in a metric ton of wrapping paper. There are multiple different kitchen utensils with an unholy amount of buttons and switches and implementations and instructions. Wanda’s gift is a poem that she reads aloud in Sokovian, which seems to echo through the humid evening and sends a chill down Bucky’s neck. Thor has brought a mirror the size of a dinner plate, which he tells them it’s prudent to set aside, for now. Steve thanks him politely and quickly wraps it back up.

There are good gifts, as well. Sam gave them matching cufflinks with the Howling Commandos symbol, which they put on immediately. Natasha’s gift is a pair of journals, beautifully bound and durable. Peter got them a bottle of wine, which is very strange, until after the gifts are done and he tells Bucky he’s been fiddling with ways to get enhanced people drunk. The gift from Wakanda is two pairs of leather gloves, well-fitted for Steve and Bucky. They don’t test them, but Bucky suspects the gloves will do much more than simply keep them warm.

There’s an envelope tucked in at the end that bears the name Virginia Potts. Steve looks at it blankly and hands it to Bucky to deal with. Inside is the deed of ownership for a small sailboat that is currently docked a half a mile up the coast, and the assurance that the perimeter guards will let them go out alone on it whenever they desire.

Bucky keeps that card near to his seat.

Then it’s time to dance. Bucky used to dance a lot, but he’s forgotten most of it. The dance classes they took downtown in preparation for the wedding served both of them well. They switch off leading, and Steve’s blush of happiness only gets stronger as more people coo and snap photos with their cell phones. At the end of the first dance, they invite other couples to join, and Steve’s cheeks eventually return to their normal hue.

The guests with small children and the locals leave right after that, if they haven’t left already. Clint takes Lila and Cooper up to their guest room while Laura stays behind, drinking champagne with Sharon and Natasha. Bucky walks Lucy to her room and Brandon and his family to the car that the agents have pulled around for them. He passes Wanda and Vision walking out into the woods on his way back, and tries very hard to not think about that. He walks by Thor gently laughing at Sharon’s date as the latter throws up in the bushes that line the driveway.

When he returns to the main hall, something collides with his side. The pulse it sends through him is not electricity, or not completely electricity, and Bucky’s vision flares brights with hyper-saturated color before he turns off.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Bucky wakes partway, the world swirling around him. A hand is on his collarbone, telling him to stay down, and a voice he vaguely recognizes is speaking in a room with large dimensions and moderate sound insulation. He is not fit to fight, but it getting there; whatever the enemy hit him with wasn’t strong enough.

Steve replies to the first voice, loud and defiant. Bucky twitches; he should be there, he should back Steve up. The hand on his collarbone presses down gently, then strokes his skin. _Sorry, not yet,_ it says, and Bucky clenches his fists against the bonds that hold them behind his back.

He blinks, and fighting sounds assail him from all sides. Awareness snaps back. He is laying on the hardwood floor of the reception room under the improvised cover of a table and some sideways chairs. Natasha is using a miniature blowtorch to cut shackles off his wrists. “Situation?”

“Red Skull,” Natasha says quickly. A bloom of ice crystallizes in Bucky’s mind and shoots down his spine. “Wants to cut Steve to pieces to understand the serum. Auction or kill the rest of us. Some of the Homeland agents are Hydra. You were out for about eight minutes. Long enough for us to put defensive measures into place and launch a counter-offensive.”

“Targets?”

Natasha’s face sets into a hard mask at his tone. “We’ve got non-coms protected. Look.”

Bucky looks. Amidst the fighting Avengers, Hydra agents, and not-Hydra Homeland Security, glowing blue bubbles protect the non-combatants from gunfire and energy attacks. Bre gives Bucky a thumbs-up from inside a nearby bubble, looking definitely not scared enough.

“Friends?” he asks Natasha, who flinches before she realizes he’s not having trouble identifying the good guys, but that he’s referencing their earlier conversation.

“He wasn’t sure what to send as a wedding gift,” she says with a smirk. “Targets: Three dozen Hydra agents with short-range teleports. We’ve sealed the main fighting force outside the house; Thor, Wanda and Vision have the outside, along with some friends.” Bucky makes to stand up, but Natasha pulls him back down. “First-”

She twists one of his new cufflinks. A large disk of blue light appears. It’s shaped like Steve’s shield.

“Couldn’t smuggle in one of your guns on short notice,” Natasha tells him.

“Slacking,” Bucky mutters with a grin, and stands up to throw the shield.

By the end of the battle, Bucky’s limping harder than Betancourt, who has completely forgotten her injury in the rush of fighting. Sharon took a slug to the gut and is frozen in the green glow of a temporal stasis pod being projected from the home entertainment screen the Bartons brought to the party. The Red Skull is a silently screaming statue in a similar pod, this one disguised as a record player from Scott. Bucky wonders vaguely if they’re going to get actual, non-weaponized wedding gifts at some point, though he admits to himself that weapons make the best presents.

The humming in the background fades away, leaving silence in its wake, and Clint enters, beelining to Laura and Bre’s bubble to shut it down and take his wife in a hard embrace. Bre starts making ice packs from one of the caterers’ coolers and handing them out as the heroes collapse at tables. Most of the centerpieces have been broken, which is a shame, after all the time Bucky spent picking them out.

He looks around for Steve, and finds him standing outside the front door, glaring up at the night sky. Instead of going over, Bucky starts patching up Natasha’s head wound. He meets her eyes after she surveys the room, and knows they’re thinking the same thing: tomorrow, there will be a lot of questions about how the force-field and their weapons and combat suits made it through the federally-mandated perimeter. A lot of folks in Washington will scream louder than ever. And they know where the battle lines will be drawn, and who will have to take the heat for their success, along with taking point on the counter-attack.

Sure enough, it’s only a few minutes before a familiar sound interrupts Peter, Sam, and Wanda’s morale-raising argument about who took down the most Hydra agents. Iron Man sweeps into the building through the open front doors, and- presumably continuing the conversation he’d heard through the bugs or com devices- settles the discussion. “The honor of most badass goes to, drumroll please-” Peter bangs a table with his uninjured hand, “-Ms. van Dyne.”

Hope waves to scattered applause and makes an oddly-shaped bow with her ankle elevated on Scott’s lap.

Steve comes back in through the door, eyes locked on the back of the Iron Man suit, and what little joviality had flared in the crowd of heroes disappears. Stark turns around, and the pair stare at each other for long moments. From outside, booted feet sound on the driveway gravel.

Steve marches out of the room, and Stark follows him. Peter mutters “Copy,” and starts fiddling with the Red Skull’s stasis unit. Natasha, all patched up, takes charge of her CER agents when they come in, directing them to start removing the Hydra prisoners and resecuring the perimeter. Bucky overhears that Thor and the Air Force officers are taking care of that duty. A contingent of CER medics comes in and, with Peter’s help, shifts Sharon’s stasis pod for transport to the nearest medical center. Bucky sits back and nurses his wounds and very publically does nothing of any interest whatsoever.

Remarkably uninjured, Sam gets up to free the remaining non-combatants trapped in the defensive bubbles, now that reinforcements have arrived. Peter’s girlfriend seems unbothered by the battle that has recently raged around her, and is comforting one of Steve’s artist friends as he sobs and shakes. His date, a stunning Japanese girl in an expensive dress, is speaking tersely into a cell phone that really should have been confiscated before now. Bucky pretends not to notice. The DJ and the cellist, who had hung around to eat catered food, look shell-shocked. All the civvies are taken away by medics to be checked over and driven to their hotels or homes.

Weston comes in from the direction of the main staircase and slowly picks his way through the crowd of downed Hydra agents, recuperating heroes, and scowling men in kevlar with submachine guns, and takes the chair next to Bucky. It’s the only one remaining at the table with four functional legs. “The archer and the… spider-boy told us to stay in our rooms. Mom nearly flipped out. Jordan had a great time, though,” he says of his nine-year-old.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, summoning up a tired grin.

Weston shakes his head ruefully. “I don’t know what we’re doin’ here. Your life is crazy, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, grinning wider.

Weston smacks him on the shoulder. “Smug fucker. But you make Mom happy. She’s gotten a lot better since you called, you know?”

Bucky nods.

“So you keep in touch. And keep yourself safe.” He checks over his shoulder at the nearest clump of Homeland agents. Bucky lets him; he doubts that the more sensitive bugs and cameras survived the battle, much less Stark’s arrival. Weston’s mouth twists in a familiar, awkward way. “You miss some stuff, don’t you?”

Bucky tilts his head. Most people dance around it. “Obvious stuff,” he admits, “and emotions. I’m good with details.”

For some reason this makes Weston grin. “Balance out your boy, I bet. He seems like a big picture kinda guy.”

Bucky looks to his right, where Steve is comforting Phee about the damage to the house, and feels someone’s intense gaze on the back of his head. “You’d be surprised.”

“I know we’re not supposed to talk ‘bout this too much, but you know you got guys comin’ after you.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow and looks around the room.

“Not them. The government.”

“I got that impression.”

“Naw man, for real.” Weston leans in closer and Bucky blinks. Lucy still lives in New York, but Weston and his family had moved down to D.C. He has a big family, and they’ve got interesting jobs all over the capital. “We got our ears open for you. You do the same, a’ight?”

Bucky takes him at face value and nods, extending his hand. Weston shakes it tightly, then hits his shoulder again. “This place isn’t gonna quiet down. I’m gonna take mom and J to a hotel around here.”

“You can use the card the plane tickets went on,” Bucky offers, and his nephew nods with a grim smile before heading out.

Bucky waits until Weston’s gone, then waves his left hand behind him in a ‘come here’ gesture. The Iron Man suit is quiet as it approaches (Homeland agents part like disciples to let it through) but there’s an off-tune buzzing when it sits in Weston’s chair and the faceplate flips up.

“Got clipped,” Stark says, noticing Bucky noticing. “Nothing dangerous. You?”

“Shot,” Bucky grunts. “It’s fine.”

Stark’s eyes get big like Sam’s did, the first time they fought together. And then he nods, assimilates the information, and moves on, the way Natasha did.

Bucky raises his metal arm, the one with the shield cufflink. “Would be a lot worse without our reinforcements.” He turns the motion into a wide gesture, like he’s talking about the various Avengers who fought tonight.

Stark’s lip quirks up. His eyes don’t leave Bucky’s. They’re very dark, and a bit shiny, and Bucky can feel Steve on the other side of the hall, trying with all his might not to be Captain America.

“You’re alright, Barnes,” Stark tells him, and Bucky wishes he could say what he really thinks, but he’s sitting in the ruins of his wedding reception, surrounded by men trained to put down superheroes, in one of Stark’s assortment of vacation homes.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Stark,” he says instead. There will be another chance, someday. If there’s something Bucky’s learned over the last century, it’s that the tables always turn. “You and Steve work something out?”

The sparkle in Stark’s eyes dies a little. “We, uh-”

“Well you don’t look maimed, so. Exceeding expectations there.”

Stark laughs awkwardly. “Hey. I wanted to say thanks for…” he trails off, jaw working.

Bucky nods. “I’d do anything for the idiot,” he says honestly.

“...I can see that.”

Something clashes out front, and then thumps, and they both turn, but no one is panicking. The atmosphere remains that of a tired victory. Nevertheless, Bucky stands up and peers his neck.

“And, uh. Congratulations.” Stark’s voice buzzes through the helmet. Bucky nods, and then limps toward the raised voices in front of his house.

Sam, Bre, Scott and Hope join him at the edge of a loose circle around the latest spectacle. Apparently unsatisfied by taking down a few squadrons of Hydra agents, Thor is engaged in good-natured fisticuffs with a tall, lithe blonde woman whose fighting outfit includes thigh-high combat boots and a yellow lightning bolt on her chest.

“I thought Asgardians were supposed to pack a punch,” the lady taunts, to the joy of the assembled crowd.

“I will not shame you by ending our bout in the first round,” Thor rejoins with a wide grin. His hammer lies on the ground some distance away, but he looks more than battle-ready.

The woman holds up fists that glow slightly in the night. “Come put your money where your mouth is,” she invites, and the pair collides with a roar.

Heavy warmth embraces Bucky from behind and he leans back into his husband’s arms. Across the circle from them, Colonel Rhodes, half-in and half-out of the Iron Patriot armor, wears out his throat cheering for the lady. Peter and his girlfriend troll him by cheering back for Thor. At their side, Bre compliments the mystery woman’s combat outfit and gently teases Sam on the shortcomings of his own, which starts Scott and Hope off on a similar argument.

Bucky spots Laura talking to Stark, her hand cupping the elbow of his suit. The faceplate is up, and Stark looks tired. Behind them, a Homeland agent approaches for Stark’s attention, and is diverted by Clint.

Sharon’s date comes to tell Steve she’s alright, and that she’s asking for jellybeans from Canada. Steve thanks him and relaxes, holding Bucky tighter against his chest. Bucky checks the agents in the area, subtly, but decides that, for now, they are safe. He nods to Sam, who nods back, indicating that he’ll get the intel to Natasha.

A burst of energy lights up the area, and when it fades there’s a deep furrow in the lawn, but Thor and the blonde woman are unharmed, if covered in dirt. Before they can go at it again, Iron Man steps forward. “I think we’re gonna have to call this one a draw,” he announces, to good-natured complaining and some slightly less good-natured murmurs. “The landscapers will have enough to deal with. Major?” he summons, and the lady shakes hands with Thor before _floating_ , okay then, over to Stark.

The milling guests return to gossiping, and awarding those who won bets on Thor or the Major, and working together under the collective nose of the government and Hydra, and hopefully never nearly killing each other again. “This was a good wedding,” Bucky says thoughtfully.

There’s a pause, and then Steve laughs, doubles over and clutches Bucky’s shoulder to stay up. Their friends start laughing at them in response, and the sound of Steve’s happiness reaches all the way to the ocean.


	5. Missing scenes from Assemble

Midnight

Wiping sweat off her forehead with a ruined tablecloth, Natasha takes a deep breath and goes through her mental checklist. The perimeter has been secured and the Hydra agents are loaded into armored vehicles to be escorted to the nearest holding facility. Parker and Vision have retrieved most of Tony’s smuggled tech and Vision is transporting it to SI in Boston, traveling insubstantially underground to avoid being seen. Back in New York Pepper has already drafted something for Steve’s lawyers to protest Homeland’s handling of their security detail.

The CIA will take custody the Hydra agents, winning Natasha’s CER division some legitimacy and hopefully a favor or two, not to mention weight for Tony to throw around on the Hill. Coulson’s been waiting for something like this, too, and between Coulson, Tony, and Maria, this coup should win them a lot of ground, politically.

Taking the wider view, it’ll be impossible to keep the attack out of the papers, and unrest has been brewing ever since Captain America’s takedown and arrest on the steps of the UN. Especially with the new ‘costumed heroes’ popping up around the US in particular, and the visible resurgence of Hydra, public opinion is swinging toward loosening the restrictions on superhumans once again. For all that they were afraid of them just last year, the people are more afraid of  _ not _ having someone like the Avengers around.

Natasha can relate.

As for the Avengers themselves… Natasha rubs her temples, trying to keep ignoring the headache that’s been pounding since Thor arrived.

Tensions have been high all day. They’ve tried to be smart about it, planned for it, for Steve and Barnes’s sakes, but resentment is still simmering. Wanda and Vision had nearly started physically fighting again, before they managed to make up; if it weren’t for Sam’s hovering, things could have gotten ugly. Clint and Laura are smarter; they’ve just avoided Natasha as much as possible, allowing painfully cordial small talk at dinner. Cooper and Lila hugged her when she arrived as they always did, but they’ve been conveniently kept away for the rest of the day.

It hurts, but Natasha knows it’s for the best. One day, the kids will be old enough to learn the details of the Accords and the split of the Avengers, and how their Auntie Nat snuck up on their father and knocked him out, arrested him. For now, Coop and Lila’s presence, and that of Lucy Robinson’s assorted grandchildren, and the friends Steve and Bucky have made in town, were probably all that could keep the former Avengers from tearing into each other all over again.

But, she thinks as someone approaches her from behind, hope springs eternal, even for jaded spies.

“You should take a break,” she hears, and Natasha smiles.

“I’m a bit busy, in case you didn’t notice,” she says, turning to meet Sam’s smirk.

Somehow still dashing in a battle-worn two-piece suit, Sam avoids the detritus of the reception decorations and smashed tables to step up to her, only a bit closer than he really should in public. He’s pretty good at this, she’s learned. He’s good at a lot of things. “You should take a break,” Sam repeats. “You were in a fight too you know.”

“This? Don’t even notice anymore.” She rolls her eyes at the cut on her temple.

“Sure you don’t want me to take a look at it?” he asks, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Natasha meets the gaze of her second-in-command by the front door and receives a nod from the woman, who is clearly holding down a smile. “I could take a minute.”

They leave through the back, down the pavilion where Natasha had made contact with Barnes earlier, to the edge of the trees. They’re certainly out of range of audio bugs here, but within the sightline of eagle-eyed Homeland agents. There are definitely plants among Natasha’s staff, and there’s a strong chance that there’s satellite or long-range camera surveillance going on.

Natasha leans back against a tree and lets Sam tuck his face into her neck.

“Our contact says Banner’s in Canada.”

Natasha shivers and puts her hands on Sam’s back. It’s summer, but by the coast in New England it can hit the fifties at night this time of year. She squeezes, and feels Sam’s teeth.

She nudges him up, and they kiss, slow and measured. Natasha doesn’t have a problem with it, but she knows it can be hard for people to get used to intimate activity under surveillance. She’s established a rhythm for Sam when they have to meet like this.

She kisses his cheek, and then his neck, and licks the edge of his ear slowly. He shudders against her. “You know where?”

“Mm-mm,” Sam hums.

“I’ll have SHIELD check the cabin. Hydra knows that one though.”

Sam nods, his hands slipping under the Homeland jacket she’d tossed on after the battle. She feels his hands on the edges of her dress and bites his earlobe. He hisses.

“Should file to get CER in charge of security around here,” she whispers.

Sam removes one of his hands to tuck it against her jaw, angling it so he can kiss her deeply. Natasha sighs in appreciation- he really is a good kisser- and smiles into his concerned look when he pulls back a centimeter.

“Steve will never go for that.”

“It won’t go through,” Natasha assures him. She grins and spins them around, pushing Sam into the tree and pressing herself against him. “Just the next step in the plan. T’Challa and Tony will- take it from there.”

Her voice hitches when Sam grinds against her, and then he freezes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she murmurs. She meets his eyes and strokes his cheek gently. “Not everything is business.”

His lip twitches like it wants to smile. “Even for you?”

Natasha kisses him slowly, enjoying the way his hands can’t help but curl around her waist. “Sam. My work is my life. How else am I supposed to meet people?”

He laughs into their next kiss, and she does too. “Bucky might convince him better than me.”

“He seems smart,” Natasha agrees. “Maybe we should bring him in.”

Sam stiffens just a little. “We’ll think about it.” He goes back to work on her neck, and Natasha lets it go. He knows his own assets better than her side can.

“I’ll put Thor into looking for Bruce,” she says around a moan. She tries to think of any more intel to pass on, but… Sam is very distracting.

Natasha gives up and lets Sam’s warmth drown out the night.

  
  
  


 

Soundproof

Steve leads him- or stomps off, whatever- to the lounge at the back of the house. It’s a good choice, with heavy insulation because of the surround sound wired into the walls. Tony’s contact in Homeland is chattering in his ear, delivering information updates at the speed of sound, just the way Tony likes it. On screen, Friday rotates the property map with red dots for friendlies and green for unfriendlies, ensuring proper protective coverage.

Tony focuses on the red dot in front of him and minimizes everything else. He closes the door behind him and has Friday interrupt the bugs in the area before letting the helmet sink back into the suit.

Steve is standing at the center of the room, gorgeous in a torn and burned button-up, arms crossed over his expansive chest. He looks ready to tear Tony a new one.

“We’re good,” Tony says, referring to the listening devices, and of course they immediately start to argue, because what the hell else?

“You put all of our friends at risk with this plan. It was risky, and callous, and-”

“Maybe if you’d listen to my messengers instead of turning everyone away-”

“I don’t need to hear your excuses-”

“-you would know when Hydra’s about to attack your goddamn house-”

“Or you could stop them. You clearly had advance notice-”

“Because I’m not an idiot, anyone could have told you-”

“-and we played right into your hands-”

“So now Hydra is my fault? I thought that was your job-”

“I can’t fight Hydra when you lock me up in your house!”

Tony’s chest heaves in the suit. “You think this is what I wanted? You banned from superheroing, from even talking to the press? Barnes’s life as collateral against your good behaviour?”

“I think you’re doing a lot of moving and shaking in Washington lately for someone with his hands tied.” There are patches of angry red on Steve’s cheeks. Tony hasn’t seen him this angry in… a year.

“I’m working on it,” Tony defends lamely.

“What happened to ‘What I set my mind on, I get, sooner or later’?”

Tony flinches. When he’d said that, it had been playful; a few months after the Battle of New York, seeing how heavy he could lay on the flirting before Captain America noticed. But now Steve looks almost ugly, glaring at him with betrayal calcified to disgust.

“I’m doing my best,” Tony replies after a moment, quieter and more serious. “There was a sizeable minority that wanted you executed for treason. I got you a beach house, and you don’t know how many people I had to- call in favors with, to get this much.”

“Should I get on my knees and thank you?”

Tony flinches again. “I want you to stop acting like we’re enemies. We’re fighting for the same thing, different ways.” He swallows. “Didn’t you get any of my messages? I know I left enough holes in the security here.”

Steve nods, narrowing his eyes. “The ones where you accused me of trying to undermine you from behind the media wall? Or the ones where you begged me not to marry Bucky?”

Tony can feel his own cheeks burning, enough that Steve must be able to see it despite his skin tone. “I knew something like this would happen. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Well guess what? I got hurt.”

He looks hurt. He looks like the result of every promise Tony hasn’t come through for, every failure. Except he’s alive.

You couldn’t tell it to hear him now, but this is the most energized Steve has sounded in months, since he and Bucky first came to Duxbury. Tony’s tried to give them privacy, at least privacy from people they know, but he’s listened in on the bugs in the public areas every so often, and Phee reports on their safety and wellness every week. He knows what confinement has done to Steve. It’s one of his biggest motivators.

“I’m going to get you your freedom back. I promise.”

“...And after that?” Steve doesn’t sound spitting mad anymore.

Tony shrugs. “You can take first pick on an Avengers team out of New York. You and Barnes. I’m opening a branch of SI in Seattle. I think West Coast Avengers has a nice ring,” he says flippantly.

“You want to split up the team?”

“What team?” Tony says bitterly. “Would Natasha have even gotten through the door if she weren’t screwing Wilson?”

“They seemed to come together pretty well for you. Unless Sam and Clint really came up with these gizmos themselves.”

Steve’s  _ smiling _ at him now, almost. It makes Tony feel worse. “Not even Peter or Clint would talk to us until we substantiated the threat against you and Barnes. And then they’d only talk to Natasha. The rest… turns out it’s not hard to unite people under the banner ‘Save Steve Rogers.’ Everybody loves you.”

That was way too bitter. Steve steps forward, those goddamned blue eyes seeing too much. Swiftly, Tony nods at his wrist. “You like it?”

Steve raises his arm. “The shield? Yeah.” He smiles like he knows it’s just making Tony more uncomfortable.

“Good,” he manages.

Steve steps closer, still with that half-smile. “I don’t think West Coast Avengers sounds right for you. We’ll make Barton do it.”

Tony puts a gauntleted hand on his chest, just a few inches away. Suddenly, even though it’s about 85% of what he’s wanted for the past year, he can’t stand to be joking around with Steve like everything’s gravy.

“I didn’t say congratulations. On your-” He chokes. “You and Barnes.”

Steve’s smile fades. “Thanks.”

“So, there’s a lot of clean-up to do-”

“Tony.” Steve clamps his hand over the gauntlet and presses it to his chest. Tony doesn’t move, even though it takes a long time for Steve to chew through the words stuck in his mouth. “After… all of this. Don’t run away to Seattle. Stay in New York.”

Tony breathes very quietly.

Steve holds the gauntlet tighter. “You and me, and Bucky, and the team. We’ll work something out.”

Tony nods, and hesitates for a long moment, and nearly crushes the doorknob as he heads back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking forward to watching Civil War this weekend and seeing all of my work here _thoroughly_ Jossed :D Hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
